


A Flower That Blooms Like A Flame

by lifescream



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Fantasy, Historical Fantasy, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, M/M, Metaphors, Romance, Tragedy, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:54:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29090874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifescream/pseuds/lifescream
Summary: Spring- the moment of rebirth, is when he withers and autumn- when leaves start to fall, is when he starts to bloom.The god of death awaits in his frozen time.But could his autumn remain unchanging when he meets a human who makes him learn that seasons can change much like feelings?
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Kudos: 23





	A Flower That Blooms Like A Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is only a work of fiction.
> 
> Warning: Please read the tags first before reading

* * *

When the flowers in the shade of flame start to bloom, fall has finally arrived. The warm summer is slowly turning into a beautiful, yet bitter cold, winter. Seasons change and so does the god of death’s withered heart.

He watches as the golden horizon melts into dark, crimson of autumn dusk. As the sun meets the red stained meadow, time is frozen in his realm.

Spring- the moment of rebirth, is when he withers and autumn- when leaves start to fall, is when he starts to bloom.

“You are the god of death.” The words from the Ruler of Hell resonates through his ear as if a memory of promise carved into a stone.

His crystal eyes mirror that of the Lycoris flower field beneath him dancing at the wind’s command. There, he stood quietly at the bed of poisonous flame to await a lost soul he would guide to hell.  _ That is the purpose of my existence. _

How much time passes, he doesn’t know. Time will always stop in his season. Still, he remains at his feet.

And perhaps,  _ this _ time, something did change.

He hears child-like voices seeping through the deep forest where his realm is hidden.

A  _ boy _ as tall as his flower bed comes into view. His hair is disheveled and clothes torn, much of the god of death’s disdain. Not only that, the boy had company.

_ If they come close to the flowers, I will have to take them to the Ruler of Hell. _ The god of death watches from afar, wondering if their guardians have left them there to be sacrificed.

The one boy he first sees takes a step forward, eyes fixated on the newly bloomed Lycoris flowers where the god of death stood.

The god of death awaits, watching the boy take slow steps like a beat of a drum.  _ One, two… dum, dum. _

His expectations are short lived when he notices a woman calling the children. The god of death watches as she lets out a tear or two gathering the lost kindred.

But the god of death does not miss the bitter eyes she possesses looking at his field of flame.  _ It’s not their time. _

His season passes and spring comes to bring back life. The god of death returns to his slumber to await the time when he blooms once again.

  
  


* * *

It is not unusual when wanderers find themselves into his forest. The god of death knows the quiet whispers and hushed voices about him and his realm. Humans would come and begin their journey to see if they are true, walking through deceitful trees that protect his world. And when they reach his flower field, they do not return to tell their stories.

And the boy in front of him would be no different.

The god of death watches as the boy’s eyes would turn glassy at the sight of his red blooms.

The boy steps closer, passing by countless tombs of those who met their bitter ends- the sacrificial lambs for the betterment of humanity. The names engraved in those tombs are of those who lived in sin and hate.

They are made for those meant in hell.

And those innocent souls who are corrupted by their curiosity are still taken by the ruler of hell.

_ Will you be one? _ The god of death asks as he watches the boy come close.

“Jeno!”

The god of death hears a voice from afar. The boy in front of him turns and his lips curl into a pleasing curve.

“Jeno, come back here!” The voice echoes from the forest trees “Auntie will nag at us again if she doesn’t find us in the field!”

The god of death notices a melodious tone coming from the boy who walks away. He had never heard such a pleasing tone. For when autumn comes, the god of death only knows the sound of pain and melancholy.

  
  


* * *

It wasn’t until the boy’s return that the god of death had thought about how quick seasons change. It has always been autumn when he awakens and spring when he sleeps. He remembers the way the boy’s lips would curve into a picturesque image, the way his eyes would turn glassy at the sight of the Lycoris field where the god of death stood.

The only thing that changed in this boy is that he is older- an adult human.

And as if the soft rustle of falling leaves indicate his arrival, Jeno returns to the god of death’s frozen time.

Jeno comes close and the god of death hears the loud thump of the drums at every step.  _ One, two… dum, dum. _

The Lycoris bend in his direction as if awaiting for his arrival.

Jeno walks pass the cold tombs, the withered flowers of the last season crushed beneath his feet. And Jeno continues to walk closer, closer to the god of death, and closer to the flowers of hell.

The god of death stands right at where the first row of flowers bloomed- a line that separates his realm to the human world, an invisible barrier that the god of death is not allowed to cross.

Life and death are separate worlds. Where humans change seasons and the god of death remains frozen in autumn.

Jeno is now in front of him, eyes still full of fascination and wonder like how he used to.

“If you come one step closer, you will be poisoned” The god of death warns. He turns his head to the side, pondering at the words he had uttered.

_ I should not meddle with fate. _ His eyes gaze back to Jeno, lips shut with the knowledge that his words will remain unheard like a quiet draft.

  
  


“Hello” Jeno greets, looking at the man right before him. He enchanted Jeno the moment he laid eyes upon him. The man who is strage, yet beautiful, stood quietly in the field of flowers as if to await Jeno. And even as Jeno steps closer, the man continues to remain still.

Jeno looks at him, his robe in the same shade of the Lycoris field where he stands, eyes as red as summer’s setting sun yet gaze as cold as winter moon. His voice monotone however, Jeno feels a nostalgic tune- haunting yet one cannot help but listen.

  
  


“You can see me?” The god of death asks wearily. Never had he known any human could.

“Yes” Jeno says with the clearest voice he could utter. He wonders if the man in front of him is indeed enchanted, for his beauty is beyond human.

“And you are not afraid?” The god of death asks. He  _ is _ the embodiment of death that humans are most afraid of.

“Should I be?” Jeno returns the question, relieved that he can still hear more of that mystical voice “I remember you nine years ago”

“I am-” The god of death pauses, swallowing his words.  _ I should not talk to humans. _ Even then, words slip out of his mouth like a calm stream “not of this world”

Jeno’s smile widens. “If you’re surrounded by these beautiful flowers then I have no doubts because you are the most beautiful one.”

“Why do you call me beautiful?” The god of death asks. He has never heard of that word uttered by humans who come across his field.

“Because you are” Jeno insists, eyes fascinated at the beauty before him “Don’t you know how you look?”

“What do I look like?” The god of death returns the question.  _ Even I do not know what I look like, not even at the eyes of the human beholder. _

Jeno takes a step forward, but his smile remains untouched “Your skin is fair and your hair is as white and beautiful as a strand of the finest silk. Your eyes are that of ruby and, your lips are as fiery and scarlet as these red lilies”

The god of death wonders again as he looks at the man before him. Jeno was the opposite. His hair is as black as the ravens that fly above his field and his eyes as dark and brown as the withered leaves beneath his feet. However, his smile remains warm like that of the last remnants of summer.

“Is that beautiful, then?” The god of death asks.

“Yes” Jeno says, endeared at the man’s indifference “so beautiful I could not forget about you since I first saw you”

_ He remembers. _ The god of death remains silent as Jeno tells his story.

Jeno comes from the land on the opposite side of the mountain. He would often visit his family every nine years and whenever he would come, he would find himself in the forest where the god of death’s realm is hidden.

Jeno tells him many stories and the god of death listens quietly. He had learned that the peculiar expression Jeno has is called a ‘smile’ and that when humans come visit the tombs, they express their pain through crying ‘tears’. The god of death wonders how humans could express that much and Jeno does not have an answer.

He also often wonders why Jeno would come by so quickly not even one season of autumn has passed. Jeno tells him it is called ‘every day’.

  
  


* * *

“What’s your name?”

“Name?” The god of death asks, “What is that?”

“A way for me to call you” Jeno tells him, wondering if the man in front of him had never been given a name. “Although I would love to call you ‘Beautiful’ every time, I would still want to call you by how you want me to address you.”

Jeno had called his tainted flowers beautiful so many times. But when Jeno directs the words to him, the god of death does not understand why his heart would once again beat like a drum that resonates inside him.

“I do not have a name” The god of death says. He doesn’t need to.

“Jaemin” Jeno says, smiling at the sight of the man who is painted with confusion.

“Jaemin” as if a single string of zither has been plucked, the sound of the name reverberates throughout the god of death. It makes him think of the soft ripples of the river and the collective hymn of cicadas.

Jeno takes a step forward, the tips of his toes almost touching the invisible barrier “I will call you Jaemin and you can call me Jeno”

“Jeno”  _ Jaemin _ repeats. The way Jeno’s name melts in his tongue makes him feel as if something inside him had been cracked. “Jeno”

Jeno hums in satisfaction hearing his name in that nostalgic tune of Jaemin’s voice. “Can I come closer?” 

Hearing the erratic beating of his heart, Jaemin refuses. The cold, empty void of hell is not a place for Jeno’s warm smile. However, his mind remains in conflict.  _ I should not meddle with fate. _

“Or you can come outside your flower field” Jeno suggests.

Jaemin still sees the familiar curve of Jeno’s lips. Yet, it feels distant and cold. He does not want to see this smile.

“Jeno, I have lied to you” Jaemin confesses “This place is only for those who have their tombstones engraved. Those whose hearts are corrupted by evil. And I am the one who delivers their souls to hell.”

He continues, “I am the god of death”

However, Jeno’s smile returns to that warmth Jaemin has come accustomed to. He takes a rock beside him and places it right in front of where Jaemin always stood. “I will claim this spot then. This is now my tomb.” 

Jaemin is puzzled and wonders if Jeno is incapable of hearing his words. “I am the god of death”

“Yes you are” Jeno nods in agreement.

“Then, I cannot understand your actions”

“You don’t have to”

  
  


* * *

Jeno comes by more often than Jaemin is used to. He would sit at his stone as he tells Jaemin many stories and mishaps in his ‘home’. Jaemin finds it peculiar that humans can live together but also fight. Jeno says it’s because they’re family and that by the end of the day, family still loves each other.

And when Jaemin asks about love, Jeno tells him that love is abstract. It can be many forms and love will always differ from one another. Love can be happy, love can be pain. Jaemin does not miss how Jeno’s eyes would glimmer like that of a water reflecting the sun as he looks at him.

“Have you-” Jaemin pauses, feeling a lump in his throat “ever loved?”

“I don’t know” Jeno answers in that playful tone Jaemin always found pleasing “but if I did, it would no doubt be you”

Jaemin feels a strange heat building inside of him, as if a poison is slowly eating him up that makes him want to get away from Jeno. Yet at the same time, he wants to stay to hear more of this  _ love _ .

“Can you hold out your hand?” Jeno asks and sees the hesitation in Jaemin’s red orbs.

Jaemin is conflicted once again.  _ I have involved myself with him _ . He repeats his words like a chant of guilt. But deep inside his heart, he longs to touch Jeno.

Jeno, however, reaches out his hand and goes beyond the invisible barrier without any hint of hesitation. “I will stay here but I want to hold your hand”

_ What have you done? _ Jaemin is taken by surprise but Jeno remains nonchalant. Yet Jeno’s pleading eyes make Jaemin’s remaining reason to disappear and he holds out his hand to touch the man.

Jeno had always thought touching someone you are endeared to would create sparks. But Jaemin’s hand feels like an ignited fire.

When Jeno fliches, Jaemin realizes what he fears has come true- hurting Jeno. But before he could retract his hand, Jeno held onto it firmly.

“Don’t!” Jeno says in desperation.

Jaemin tries to pull away but his attempt remains futile “No, you’re hurt”

“I wasn’t” Jeno smiles as he shows Jaemin the determination in his eyes “It was just hotter than I expected”

Jaemin could do nothing but stay. Jeno only smiles and Jaemin is relieved to see that Jeno is, indeed, unharmed.

“Your hands are so soft” Jeno speaks, his thumb softly caressing the back of Jaemin’s hand.

The heat inside Jaemin does not disappear. But instead of fearing for it, he feels a pleasant sensation more so when Jeno plays with his fingers “And yours are hard”

“I work in a field, they should be hard.”

Jaemin once again hears that melodious sound Jeno lets out and he learns it’s called a ‘laugh’. He had also grown accustomed to the pleasantry of feeling the heat yet he still cannot grasp how his heart would thump like a loud beating drum.

  
  


* * *

After that, Jeno would often come visit and they would hold hands. Jeno would often lie on his stone and beside him, Jaemin lies in his bed of red lilies. As they exchanged words, their hands remained intertwined.

“The stars are so beautiful tonight”

“Stars?” Jaemin turns to his side to look at the man beside him.

“Don’t you see them?” Jeno points his finger up.

Jaemin answers no, for his time remains frozen in his realm. “I only see red when the sun is setting”

Jeno sits up, astonished by Jaemin’s revelation. “You haven’t seen morning or night?”

Jaemin answers no once again. He tells Jeno that his realm remains unchanging until the season changes to spring where he would sleep once again.

That is why what Jeno does next surprises Jaemin beyond his beliefs.

Jeno walks inside the barrier, passing by the first row of Lycoris that separates him and Jaemin.

Once he enters, Jeno is nothing but awed. He sees the red skies in contrast to his deep blue night. He sees the sun kissing the horizon and painting everything with golden hue.

And he sees Jaemin, eyes wide but still so beautiful against the scenery.

“Why did you come in?” Jaemins says loudly, his heart erratically pounding and the heat rising up inside him once again. “What if you never get out?”

Jeno hums and walks past the flowers. There is a pregnant pause before he turns to Jaemin, “I don’t mind it if I’m with you”

“Why?” Jaemin asks. Jeno has done so many things that Jaemin could not understand. However, he can’t help but still be drawn to Jeno- the one who makes him feel strange and draws out many emotions he did not think he is capable of.

“Because I want to be with you” Jeno answers simply “Is that wrong?”

“I am the god of death” Jaemin responds, hoping to take a hold of his purpose.

“And?” Jeno questions, taking steps towards the other man “You’re Jaemin to me”

Jeno confuses him so. Jaemin thinks of Jeno like a wind, incomprehensible and spontaneous that even his flowers cannot understand. And Jaemin feels as if he is like his Lycoris- being swayed along where the wind goes. 

Jeno now stands before Jaemin. He holds his hands like he does- gentle like how flowers should be treated. He reaches his other hand to touch Jaemin’s cheek and his eyes dart to every curvature of Jaemin’s face “As I said, If I would love someone, it would be you”

Jaemin does not want to deny Jeno. He wants  _ this _ , what Jeno calls ‘love’.

And once Jaemin realizes that he wants to be with Jeno, the heat inside of him never leaves.

Jeno spends his time wandering at this realm, eyes gleaming at the frozen time. And Jaemin watches how enamored Jeno is as if he belongs in there.

Jaemin, however, feels a churn in his stomach at the thought of Jeno passing by the barrier.

He was the most relieved when Jeno walked out unscathed. Jaemin wanted Jeno to stay longer. But he knows it's selfish, wishful thinking. He knows he should not be this attached. And yet, he longs for Jeno’s touch as if every time the tip of Jeno’s fingers caress him, Jaemin feels an enchanting but sweet blaze.

  
  


* * *

When Jeno returns drenched, he leisurely walks past the barrier. He basks in the warmth of the last heat of the summer as his body trembles in coldness. Jaemin worries and Jeno tells him rain in the winter season is very unpleasant.

A small gasp escapes Jaemin’s mouth when he sees Jeno turn his back, and takes off his upper wear revealing a flesh Jaemin has yet to see. However, Jaemin’s eyes fixate on the red markings occupying Jeno’s back.

He steps closer, tracing every line of the red ink that is embedded within Jeno’s skin. “What is this?” 

“I asked my friend to ink me” Jeno responds, humming as he feels Jaemin’s touch “And I chose Lycoris. He was not too happy about it but he still did it”

“Why?” Jaemin had told Jeno it is the flower of hell and death- everything macabre. Yet, Jeno still chose it.

“I want to be close to you” Jeno’s answers simply, turning to face Jaemin to tell him his reason in the sincerest way possible “You cannot come out of this barrier and I want you to be with me even as we do not see each other”

Just by those words, Jaemin reminisces the last remnants of summer- the warmth before the cold. Where his skies turn from golden to red.

Before his time freezes to welcome autumn.

_ Dum… dum _ . He once again hears the loud thumping of the drum in the same rhythm as his heart.

Jaemin sees the soft flutter of Jeno’s lashes like that of the Lycoris stamens. His raven hair falling right above his eyes that would turn crescents when he smiles- brighter and warmer than the setting sun.

“You are beautiful” Jaemin utters in a soft voice as he continues to get lost in Jeno’s brown orbs.

It isn’t until when Jeno’s lips touch his own that Jaemin feels a flame inside him ignite. And when Jeno touches him, he feels as if the flame grows bigger, hotter than what he imagines the summer he never had.

Jaemin had only known the coldest season and never the warmest. Yet, Jeno makes him feel a feverish burn he never would have thought of knowing.

As Jeno lays him down his bed of red lilies, Jaemin succumbs to him.

He lets Jeno in him, letting Jeno make him feel the sweet poison that would turn into delightful pleasure of flesh.

And Jaemin continues to burn inside.

Jeno kisses the single tear that falls from Jaemin’s ruby orbs. He kisses the lips that are swollen in deep shade of red.

And just like that, he embraces Jaemin- the most beautiful flower in the field of flame.

  
  
  


“Is this what humans call ‘love’?” Jaemin asks, basking at the feel of Jeno’s flesh against his.

“Even I am not too sure myself” Jeno holds Jaemin close as he looks at his ruby orbs. They shine like the brightest gem Jeno would never trade for anything. “You are the only one who makes me feel like this”

_ I feel the same.  _ Jaemin wants to confess.

But he is cut short when Jeno screams in agony, clutching his chest as he coughs out blood.

“J-Jeno?” Jaemin’s voice trembles. And as if fate decides to amuse itself, Jaemin feels his heart is being shattered into pieces. “Jeno, what’s wrong?”

_ You should never meddle with fate. _

Jaemin stays petrified, clutching Jeno’s agonizing body as he begins to hear voices in his head.

_ You are the god of death. _

“N-No” Fear overcomes Jaemin as he foresees what comes next. Closing his eyes, he pleads in desperation. “Please”

_ You will bring the souls of the dead to me. _

When Jaemin opens his eyes, he is in a black void. Jeno is no longer in his arms and Jaemin is left alone in an echoing silence.

Before him, a burning Lycoris blooms. The  _ Ruler of hell. _

“ _ Spring is coming. Bring the human to me. _ ”

“N-no” Jaemin denies him “He did not do anything wrong. He does not deserve to be in hell.”

“ _ That is not for you to judge. Your only purpose is to bring his soul to me, god of death. _ ”

“I love Jeno” Jaemin cries in despair “Please let him go. I will only beg this once and never again. Please do not take him away from me.”

“ _ Once a soul walks past your field, they are meant to come in hell. _ ”

Jaemin begs on his knees. “Please let Jeno live, Ruler of Hell”

“ _ You should have not involved yourself with a human. Now deliver his soul to me. _ ”

“Anything but that, please” Jaemin’s heart breaks into pieces “It is not his time!”

“ _ The moment he held your hand, his fate was sealed. That human is meant to die. You are his poison. You are the one that is taking his life, god of death _ ” The Ruler of Hell speaks.

And Jaemin feels as if his very being is being shattered over and over- trampled like the withered Lycoris in spring.

“ _ Every moment you two spent, his life lessened. Your fire was the one that put out his wick. _ ”

Even as his flames go ablaze deep in him, Jaemin feels nothing but alone in a cold, winter. The void around him feels as if it could swallow him whole into an eternal blizzard where no one could hear his silent cries.

Once Jaemin opens his eyes, he is back to where he is- in the middle of the red Lycoris field with Jeno in his arms. Tears full of regret and guilt run down his face as he watches his beloved slowly withering away like his season bidding goodbye.

“I am so sorry” Jaemin weeps, holding Jeno close “Forgive me, Jeno.”

“You’re still so beautiful even when you cry.” Jeno quietly says, pain evident in his voice. Still, he reaches out to wipe the warm tears streaming down his beloved’s face “But don’t weep for me, my love. I want to see you smiling until my last breath.”

Jaemin forces himself to smile. Something he had never thought would be so painful. He had always thought smiling would mean happiness, not to mask a pain that pierces through his heart.

If humans can weep the melancholy and sorrow, why does he have to smile?

Why does Jeno have to make him smile at his deathbed, where his blood stains the flowers in deep, anguish red?

“You are the most beautiful when you smile” Jeno croaks out in his remaining breath “Maybe one day, you can come out of your flower field smiling”

  
  


Jeno was someone who could make Jaemin remember the remaining warmth of the summer sun.

Jeno was someone who could smile at the tears of autumn.

Jeno was the heat in the passing winter wind.

Jeno was his spring. Something he never felt because spring will always be his end.

Jeno was life and he is death, two worlds that should never meet.

  
  


Jaemin watches Jeno’s body slowly dissipate like how the wind blows away the fallen petals. He watches, and watches, until nothing remains but his red flower field.

  
  


_ So this is what humans feel when they come to the tombs to bid goodbyes. _

  
  


_ Love can be happy, love can be pain. _

  
  


As Jaemin takes slow steps to where Jeno’s stone is placed, he hears the piercing sound of broken string and the erratic drum beating.

He reaches out his hand beyond the first row of Lycoris and feels as if something inside of him has completely shattered.

The time has changed and the wind has gone colder. His red eyes finally see the brilliant stars against the deep blue remnants of winter night and he watches as the last snow melts into his withering hand.

_ This is beautiful, Jeno. _ Jaemin closes his eyes and smiles as he meets his end.

Atop Jeno’s stone, a single Lycoris flower falls.

Spring has come and the flower that blooms like a flame never bloomed once again.

* * *


End file.
